It Cant Rain All the Time
by HavenKane
Summary: Starts the summer after fifth year. Things have to get better at some point.
1. Letters

I own very little, and absolutely none of it is Harry Potter.  
  
I know that this isn't the best thing in the world but I'm posting it anyways to get a friend off of my back.  
  
Chapter 1 Letters  
  
Harry sat on his shabby little twin bed. The fading sunlight fell through the open window. A soft breeze played across his face, causing his bangs to shift slightly, revealing a thin scar down his forehead in the most curious shape. He sat with his feet tucked underneath him, his eyes closed, and a slight frown of concentration on his face. He was attempting to clear his mind of all thought, but the task was proving itself to be more difficult than he would have imagined. He nearly got there a few times, but his attempts were always thwarted by unwanted images. Most of these images involved a single person. Sirius Black.  
  
Things were going well this time. Harry's breathing was calm, his eyes closed lightly, his hands laying loose palms down upon his knees, and then Sirius fell for what seemed to be the thousandth time that night. Harry stared as his godfather again came closer and closer to the black curtain behind him. He wore the same look of fear and surprise. The same triumphant scream of his attacker rang in Harry's ears.  
  
Harry growled in frustration, as he reached behind him and grabbed his pillow. He flung it at the wall with a loud THUMP in hopes of venting some of the anger and restlessness that refused to leave him.  
  
"KEEP IT DOWN, BOY!" Uncle Vernon roared from the living room, where he sat with a stiff drink watching the news before bed.  
  
Harry slumped back onto his bed, which was rather uncomfortable seeing as his pillow was no longer there. I am never going to get this. He thought dejectedly, trying to keep his mind off of Sirius. I am not meant to learn occlumency.  
  
It had been less than two weeks since Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ended, and his nightmares were back and stronger than ever. The thing that frustrated him the most was that he wasn't even learning anything useful from his dreams now. Voldemort knew how to keep him from watching, and how to make him watch. Which resulted in Harry seeing nothing of any importance, but enough violence to make him literally ill when he woke every morning.  
  
Harry got to his feet and walked across the room to get his pillow, debating the whole way as to whether it was worth another try tonight or not, when a rustling at his window drew his attention.  
  
"Hey, girl." Harry said softly, as Hedwig landed on the back of his wobbly desk chair. He walked across the room throwing his pillow back on his bed as he passed. He smiled down at her, and she stuck out her leg so that he could remove the letter that was tied there. He sat the letter on the desk and ran his hand absentmindedly over her beautiful white feathers.  
  
Just then a fluffy winged tennis ball flew strait into the side of Harry's head. Harry grabbed at Pig, but failed to capture the overexcited owl who was doing loop-the-loops around the light in the center of his ceiling. Standing on the foot of his bed he finally snatched tiny creature out of the air and jumped down.  
  
"Popular tonight. Aren't I, girl?" Harry said to Hedwig who was now settling down in her cage for a nice nap after her journey. He took the note from Pig and let the owl go. He immediately went back to his acrobatics around the light fixture. He's been into Ron's sugar quills again, Harry thought, staring at the hyperactive bird that had begun dive bombing Hedwig's cage in an attempt to get her to come out and play.  
  
The sun had set now. Harry grabbed Hedwig's letter, flopped down onto his bed and unrolled it. Inside was something that Harry had never expected to see.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I have come to the conclusion, due to the events of the end of your last school term, that some of my opinions regarding you may have been wrong. While I understand that you may feel a bit betrayed, please understand that I always had your best interest at heart. I apologize for my previous behavior and wish you nothing but the best.  
  
Sincerely, Percy Weasley  
  
Umm. Okay. Harry wondered if now would be a good time to practice occlumency, seeing as how he didn't know what to think it might be easier now to not think at all. Trying to ponder the logic in that, he sat up, staring blankly out the open window and into the darkness outside.  
  
He glanced back down at the bed and saw the note that Pig had brought. He picked it up in hopes that Ron might be able to shed some light on the previous letter.  
  
Harry,  
  
Did you get it? Mom said I couldn't read it. She made Percy send one to you and Dumbledore before she would let him back into the family. Only you and Dumbledore! Like he did nothing to the rest of us! I told him not to think that I had forgiven him for the letter he gave me. Only Mom and Dad have really taken him back. I'd be happy if I never saw the guy again. Ginny nearly hexed him for touching Hedwig, but Dad kept her from it saying that Hermes was out taking one to Dumbledore and I had Pig out to take something to Hermione. I honestly cannot believe him. Have fun burning his letter. I have to go. Fred and George are going to tell Mom where the money came from. I'll owl when I know when you can come over.  
  
Ron  
  
Harry looked back at the letter from Percy. It made a bit more since now. He was forced to do it. It meant nothing. My best interest. he thought sarcastically. He took both of the letters, stuck them in his trunk, staring at a pile of old letters from Sirius before getting up and turning out the light. He lay back on his bed, now sure that any attempt to practice tonight would be far beyond fruitless. He fell asleep to the sounds of a tiny bouncing owl whirling around his room, hoping pointlessly that he might go forgotten for one night and would be spared his dreams.  
  
Harry stood tall over the cowering form of a young girl. She cried and pleaded to be left alone, but he simply laughed. She hid her tear-streaked face behind a veil of bright red hair. Harry raised his wand, and cried out "Crucio!" The tiny body before him tensed and she cried out in pain. He held the curse on her for quite some time, not removing it until she could no longer scream. He released her for a moment, laughing as she gasped for air, before taking away her relief and placing under the curse once again. After several more rounds, Harry put away his wand and knelt beside the still twitching girl. "I'm not playing little girl," he said in a sinister voice. "You can't protect him forever." He pull a sharp dagger from somewhere in his cloak, as the small form, barely clinging to her sanity, whimpered and tried and pull away.  
  
The dream continued on, never letting up until Harry rolled off the side of his bed and onto the floor. He knelt there panting and trying desperately not to be sick. Ginny. he had unshed tears in his eyes, his heart hurting just about as bad as his scar. Harry hated all his dreams lately, but Voldemort every now and then liked to really punish him, to give him a bit of fiction, a dream like the one that had led him to the prophecy, and Sirius' death. It was always the same in these dreams, though there had only been a few so far. The people he loved were always being tortured because of him, because they were protecting him.  
  
Harry got to his feet carefully, his breath slowly returning to him. There was a sharp rap on the door, and his aunt snapped, "Up boy! Get up now!" He rolled his eye, and held onto the desk chair for support. "I'm up Aunt Petunia," he said complacently. He heard her tromp down the stair, and turned to his closet. Trying hard to put the dream out of his mind he pulled out a threadbare T-shirt that was so large he often thought Hagrid might be able to wear it, a pair of patched jeans, and a much-needed belt and set about the task of getting dressed.  
  
He trudged his way down to the kitchen, not paying attention to the murmurs of conversation heard beyond the swinging door, until he entered and they stopped abruptly. He looked between his aunt and uncle suspiciously as he headed for the stove. He took out the frying pan, and turned to glance at his relatives again. They were sitting at the table staring at him as though a perfect stranger had just walked in and started cooking them breakfast. Harry turned back to the stove and raised his eyebrows. Hmm. well they're obviously up to something, he thought, then turned and headed to the fridge to retrieve the bacon.  
  
After a breakfast of dry toast and orange juice, Harry made his way back up stairs. He dug through his trunk looking for a quill and parchment so that he could right back to Ron. He found what he was looking for, and started to close his trunk, but lost sight of this goal for a moment when he caught sight of Sirius' letters. He sat frozen for a moment, unable to take his eyes off of his own name, scrawled across the front of the letter in Sirius' untidy handwriting. Coming back to his senses he shut the lid shaking his head of the thoughts that had threatened to overtake him. He sat at his desk and began to pen a note to his friend, starting off the same way that he had every letter this summer.  
  
Ron  
  
Let everyone know I'm fine. Aunt Petunia is even keeping Dudley off my back some, because of Dumbledore's howler. That and they are still terrified of Moody. Yes, I got Percy's letter. I let you read it when I see you. Tell Ginny I said thanks for trying to protect Hedwig. Let me know how things go for Fred and George. I hope I see you soon.  
  
Harry  
  
He had to tell them he was fine in every letter or they would come to check on him, which was probably a good thing since he was sure that otherwise his uncle would do more than just turn purple and leave the room when he was upset with Harry. Harry rolled up the parchment and started to tie it to Hedwig's outstretched leg, when he stopped and sat back down at his desk.  
  
"Just a second girl," Harry said to his somewhat confused owl. Only polite to reply. he thought to himself as he reached for a second piece of parchment.  
  
Percy  
  
I have come to the conclusion, due to your last letter, that you are a complete idiot. While I understand that you may feel a bit angry, please understand that I don't care. I do not accept you apology, and wish you nothing but fleas.  
  
Sincerely, Harry Potter  
  
P.S. Fred and George are bad, bad influences.  
  
Harry shook his head, grinning a bit. He rolled up the parchment and threw it in the trash, further confusing his poor owl. Grabbing another piece of parchment, he tried again.  
  
Percy  
  
I accept your apology, and thank you for your kind wishes.  
  
Harry Potter  
  
He tried to think of something else to say, but after racking his brain for five minutes that was all he came up with. He tied to two letters to the offered leg and sent Hedwig off. He stayed leaning out the window enjoying the fresh air, until a shrill voice from out side his door called him down to do his chores.  
  
A/N There you have it... a bunch of crap... hope you liked it.... don't know when I'll update.... review if you wish... I'm going out for a cappuccino.... 


	2. Visitors

I do not own Harry Potter, and am making absolutely no money off of this. Just thought you should know.  
  
Back by the popular demand of 7 people. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Also, thanks to my new Beta. Everyone say thank you to Erfa. Maybe now I won't have as many problems as I did in the first chapter.  
  
Chapter 2 Visitors  
  
Harry woke up in his usual state of panic. That poor little boy, he thought as he held his head in his hands. He sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, lost in misery. There was the usual sharp rap at the door and his aunt gave her warm morning greeting of "Up boy! Get up now!" Harry took a deep breath, steeling himself for another day and responded with no enthusiasm, "I'm up Aunt Petunia."  
  
He went through his morning routine, all the while trying calm himself, and put the terrible images of the night before out of his head. He always kept a blank face in front of his relatives lately. They would only use his pain against him, so why should he show it to them in the first place.  
  
The morning was rather uneventful. He cooked breakfast for his unusually quiet relatives, and finished his list of chores fairly quickly. Harry settled down on his bed with the intention of proofreading his potions essay one last time.  
  
When he was nearly halfway through the section on the properties of asphodel root and the reasons for it's use in advanced sleeping potions there was a loud crash down stair, and Harry jumped off of the bed, grabbing his wand from beneath his pillow as his went. He had taken to keeping it there lately, just incase it was needed. He was creeping down the stairs toward the sound of voices in the living room when Dudley came up behind him and asked quite loudly, "What's going on?" Harry could have quite happily cursed him right there, but the sight of the man at the bottom of the stairs stopped him.  
  
"I found him," Remus Lupin called over his shoulder. Harry's eyes lit up like they hadn't all summer at the sight of his ex-professor. The eyes looking back at him mirrored the emotion.  
  
"I heard something crash, Professor. Is everything okay?" Harry asked. Remus snickered a bit, and a head of fire engine red hair appeared behind him and answered over Dudley's panicked stutter, which was currently butchering the word professor.  
  
"Sorry, Harry. My fault entirely," Tonks said as she smiled over the good professor's shoulder. Harry smirked at her and she stuck out her tongue in an extremely childish comeback. "Going to curse me? I warn you, I am trained to defend myself." Harry noticed that he still had his wand held out in front of him. He flashed her an embarrassed grin and tucked it away.  
  
"If you can stay on your feet long enough to!" Harry retorted. Tonks gave him a dirty look and he grinned. "I'm Snape's least favorite student, and I live with these people. That won't phase me." So having nothing better to get back at him with, she stuck her tongue out at him once again.  
  
"Children, behave yourselves," Remus scolded, shaking his head, and grinning at their exchange. "Harry? Is your cousin alright?" Remus looked quite concerned for the young man's welfare.  
  
Harry turned to face Dudley. He had about as healthy a color to him a Sir Nick did. Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Dudley," Harry said in a far-too- cheery voice. "I should probably introduce you. This is Remus Lupin. He was one of my professors a few years ago at Hogwarts, and this is Tonks. She works for the Ministry of Magic." He stood there for a moment savoring the look of terror on Dudley's face, then turned back toward the bottom of the stairs.  
  
"What are you guys doing here anyway, Professor?" Harry asked, now refusing to pay attention to the whining behind him. Remus gave him a rather exaggerated look of frustration.  
  
"Remus! I am not your professor anymore. I told you this last summer! Call me Remus!" Remus shouted. Harry grinned mischievously.  
  
"Sorry Professor!" Harry taunted. Remus rolled his eyes, and Tonks giggled a bit. Harry's very purple uncle appeared at the bottom of the stairs, careful to stay away from the two fully-grown wizards while trying not to make it obvious, which is to say, acting like an idiot. "Why are you here, Moony?" Harry asked again. Remus gave a sad smile at the nickname.  
  
"I came to check on you of course!"  
  
"We!" Tonks corrected him.  
  
"Having fun?" Harry quirked an eyebrow at the young auror. The tiny pink tongue made yet another appearance, and Remus decided to continue the conversation as though they weren't acting like they belonged back in grammar school.  
  
"We came to check on you," Remus agreed.  
  
"Why don't we take a little walk then." Harry suggested. "I don't think that my relatives are too happy about me having visitors."  
  
"Well they had better deal with it, because otherwise we'll just have to send Mad-Eye to check on you next." Tonks threw Vernon a warning look. Remus placed a hand on her shoulder, and looked to Harry.  
  
"That sounds fine, Harry. Lead the way."  
  
Harry led the way down the stairs and past the normally upright coffee table that now lay on its side. Harry gave Tonks a sideways glance and she grinned and looked down in embarrassment. They followed Harry down Privet Drive, and toward the park, chatting the whole way about nothing in particular: Harry's homework (complete), Harry's O.W.L. results (supposed to come soon), Tonks' latest hair color ("I felt like such an oddball around all those Weasleys, so I thought I'd try to fit in" "You missed by a few shades.").  
  
They sat down on the swings, and fell silent. Tonks began to hum, breaking the silence. Harry grinned at her. She kicked off and started to swing back and forth to the beat of some song that Harry vaguely remembered as being sung by The Weird Sisters. He and Remus watched her, marveling at how easily she entertained herself.  
  
"What's been going on with the Order?" Harry finally asked, breaking his gaze away from the girl sailing through the air and turning to look at the last Marauder.  
  
Remus sighed, "You know I can't say anything here, Harry."  
  
"I know, but it's just so frustrating. Nobody can tell me anything." Harry began to swing slightly, though he was barely moving in comparison to the young girl who was flailing about some ten feet in the air before falling back the other direction.  
  
"I don't think I'd like being in your position either," Remus confessed to his best friend's son. Harry snorted. If you only knew, Remus.  
  
They sat in silence once again, until their brightly haired comrade leapt from the swing, landing with cat like grace, and then falling to her butt.  
  
"Puppy!" she shouted, and took off running. A few large strides found her in front of a rather large 'puppy.'  
  
Remus gasped, and Harry smiled slightly at the girl who was petting a large shaggy black mutt. "That was my reaction, too," Harry revealed. Remus looked over at him quickly and then back at the dog, as though afraid to loose sight of it. "His name is Bear. He belongs to one of my neighbors. They got him last summer."  
  
Remus looked back at Harry. "It's stupid, really. We both saw." It seemed as though Remus' throat closed off. He didn't appear to be capable of finishing the thought, but Harry understood completely. There was just no hope of seeing Sirius again, no matter how bad they wanted it.  
  
They sat silent again, until Tonks launched herself at Harry knocking him out of his swing, and to the ground. "Cheer up! I came to visit you, not watch you mope!" Harry had always hated perky giggly girls, but for some reason Tonks never really bothered him. He grinned up at her from his position flat on his back and then at the older man looking down at him from the swing next to them. An evil glint appeared in their eyes as they looked at the werewolf. Harry pulled Remus' feet out from underneath him, as Tonks pressed her weight against his shoulders. They sent him head first into the sand beneath the swings. They landed in a fit of giggles. Remus was the first to regain his senses and the others soon followed.  
  
"You can't go around doing things like that to old men like me," Remus scolded, raising himself up on his elbows to look at the two sitting at his feet. They were all breathing quite heavily from the exertion and the giggling. Harry got to his feet and helped his attacker up, leaving Remus on the ground. They each grabbed an arm and hauled the man to his feet. Not letting go of the arms they took, they began to drag Remus along the path back to Harry's neighborhood, supporting most of his slight weight. "I said I'm old not crippled." Remus complained, trying to free his arms. The others let go suddenly, causing him to stumble. "Why you little," Remus said with a rare smirk. He let out a soft, but experienced growl, and they all took off running.  
  
They arrived back at number four all too soon and all a bit out of breath. "When am I getting out of this place, Remus?" Harry asked in a voice that didn't sound too far off from begging.  
  
"Soon I hope, but I can't promise anything. It's really up to Dumbledore. You know that if you have any problems that all you have to do is write one of us, and we'll be here as soon as we can." Remus promised yet again.  
  
"I know that, and they aren't treating me that bad. Personally I think that they are terrified of Moody, but I just hate being cut off from the wizarding world." Remus opened his mouth, but Harry interrupted, "I know why I have to be, I just don't like it."  
  
"I know, Harry. Like I said, I don't envy you." Remus placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Just try to deal with it a little longer. We'll see you again soon. Any requests as to who tags along next time?" He quirked an eyebrow. He was quite curious as to what Harry's answer might be. He had clung so tight to Sirius. Who was Harry going to rely on now that he was gone?  
  
"I don't care. I'm just happy to see anyone who knows the difference between a wand and a tree branch," Harry replied, smiling slightly at the memory of taunting Dudley.  
  
Remus smiled back, and they walked up the path to the front door, following the skipping redhead. Harry hugged them both goodbye, surprising Remus a bit, and then went back inside the house, after his friends had disaperated.  
  
A/N I know that this chapter is shorter than the last, and I am trying not to make it a trend. Thanks for reading and pretty pretty please review! 


	3. Going Home

I don't own Harry Potter. (tear)  
  
Chapter 3 Going Home  
  
Life on Privet Drive didn't change much over the next two weeks. The mailman dropped off letters addressed to Mr. and/or Mrs. Dursley just like always. Various owls swooped in and out of a second floor window virtually unnoticed by the occupants of the normal little neighborhood, as was usual, each carrying with it a letter or two addressed to Mr. Harry Potter. The Dursley family devoured meal after meal, while Harry Potter pushed his meager portions around on his plate whenever forced to dine with them. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon dropped quickly into a deep sleep each night, while Dudley stayed up playing the latest computer games. The three of them woke each morning (or sometimes afternoon in Dudley's case.) fully rested. Harry Potter stayed up as late as possible each night only falling into a fretful sleep long after the loud snoring had begun in the room next door, only to wake a few hours later in a state of panic.  
  
One such morning Harry sat once again on the edge of his bed trying to catch his breath. That poor man, Harry mused to himself and then shook the thought from his head. Snape would not appreciate the sentiment, and Harry now knew that he deserved much more respect than he received.  
  
Harry often wondered whether he should apologize to Snape for the things he did at the end of last year. He wasn't sure if the man would even listen to him, let alone forgive him. Harry didn't know what he was going to do about last year, but he swore that from now on he would show the man the respect he deserved. If he was willing to go that far for the order. Harry would apologize if he ever got the chance. He found it a bit funny really. At first, the Death Eater meetings had hurt Harry the least, but now he wasn't sure he could stomach another round of lets-torture-Snape-for- not-showing-up-the-night-Voldemort-was-resurected. At least, they don't think he is a spy anymore. How is he still sane? Harry thought to himself. Then again, how am I still sane?  
  
He rubbed his scar, which burned nearly constantly of late, and looked over at the glowing numbers on his bedside table. It was 4:30 in the morning. As it was a Saturday, he knew that the Dursleys wouldn't be up for at least another 2 hours. Needing something to occupy his mind and keep him from falling back to sleep, he started looking around his room for anything that might hold his attention. His homework was done, and had been reviewed multiple times. He had read and reread his textbooks, and everything else in his trunk until he could nearly recite them all on command. Hermione would be impressed.  
  
None of Dudley's broken toys seemed worth a second look, but the shelves of books did seem to catch his eye. He ran his fingers over the crisp unbroken spines. They all looked brand new, as they had never been read, or even touched after they were first given to Dudley. He caught sight of a few that looked as though they had been read, and found them to be old school books. There was a small one, an older looking tome, whose binding was creased, and pages dog-eared. He pulled in from the shelf, and began to thumb through it. He knew that Dudley had never touched it. His school books rarely ever looked used, as he had other children do his work for him. It was more likely to have been his aunt's or uncle's. He let the pages fall through his fingers, until he came to the inside of the front cover. There was a sticker with the Hogwarts emblem beneath a small white box in the middle of the page with the words "This book belongs to" printed inside of the box. Harry nearly dropped the book when he read the next two words. In a tidy hand, the words "Lily Evans" stared back at that same woman's son. The book had belonged to his mother.  
  
He opened the book to the first chapter only to find that it wasn't a text book at all. The book was a work of fiction that Harry was quite interested in reading. He made his way down stairs, to escape the relentless snoring from the next room.  
  
He sat down on the sofa, and flipped forward to the first chapter. One hour later Harry was deeply immersed in a world of hobbits and dwarfs, wizards and dragons. With each turn of the page he felt closer to his mother. He loved to know that she too had once read those exact words. He had always felt some sort of physical connection to his father. He looked like his father. He had met his father's friends. He had his father's invisibility cloak. The only things he had ever had that linked him to Lily were his eyes and the relatives he had been left with. He didn't like to count the people he lived with though.  
  
Harry was several chapters in when he heard a scream from up stairs. He looked around, panicked. He had completely forgotten his wand. It was still up in his room. He stupidly charged up the stairs. At the top he followed Dudley's terrified shrieks into his cousin's room. A young girl with bright blue hair, and violet eyes was climbing off of the large boy's bed. An older man with red hair was trying to conceal his laughter. A younger man whose hair matched that of the other made no such effort, and had tears in eyes, and was close to collapsing. Another man was standing to the side, waiting for the room's other occupants to control themselves. It was this man that Harry approached.  
  
"Remus?" Harry raised an eyebrow to ask the obvious question.  
  
"Tonks botched her apperation. She gave your cousin a bit of a fright. We meant to show up in your room, but she missed," Remus replied in a hushed tone. The grin he was fighting, was slowly showing itself as he spoke. He was apparently not quiet enough though, as the older of the two men in front of them turned to see who his friend had spoken too.  
  
"Harry!" he shouted, drawing everyone's attention.  
  
"Hi, Mr. Weasley. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Well, we all thought that it would be best if you had a little extra protection on this trip, and Bill and I were free today, so."  
  
"Trip?" Harry asked. No one had told him he was supposed to go anywhere.  
  
"Yes, Harry," Remus answered, "We decided it was time to take you home."  
  
"Home?" Harry was very confused now. According to everyone else, they were standing in his home. According to him, his home was Hogwarts. Were they taking him back to Hogwarts early?  
  
"To Grimwald Place." Remus elaborated.  
  
"What on earth is going on in here?" Vernon Dursley shouted as he entered in his bathrobe, his wife following shortly behind him.  
  
"We don't have time for this," Remus sighed. "Why don't you two pack up Harry's room. He and I will grab his things from the rest of the house. Arthur, I assume I can leave these three to you?" Mr. Weasley nodded. Tonks headed for the door with the eldest Weasley child at her heals. The Dursleys did their best to shrink back into the furniture of the cluttered room, a little wary of what the sandy haired man had meant by that question. Remus placed a hand on the black haired teen's shoulder and led him from the room.  
  
"Lead the way, Harry, but hurry. The Portkey is set for about five minutes from now." Harry led him downstairs, and grabbed the battered tome he had hurriedly discarded moments ago.  
  
"That's it," Harry said heading for the stairs.  
  
"What is it?" Remus asked. The young man had peaked his curiousity now, for Remus had always had a great love for books.  
  
Harry, though, was a bit reluctant to share his secret with anyone else. "Um. just a book. I.I think it was." Harry's voice trailed off, and he handed the book over to Remus, who flipped it over to reveal fading gold letters identifying the book as The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  
"I love this book," Remus said with a smile, thumbing through the book, landing as Harry had on the inside of the front cover. His eyes sprung wide, and he glanced at the boy in front of him.  
  
"I found it on a shelf with Aunt Petunia's old books," Harry explained. "I don't know why I didn't want to tell you. It's just. I've never really had anything of hers before."  
  
Remus smiled at him, before saying, "We should hurry. We don't want to miss our ride." He handed Harry back the book, and they made their way back to Harry's room. They entered to find the other three holding a sheet of parchment between them, Bill with a tight hold on Harry's trunk. Tonks motioned them over and as soon as Harry's fingers hit the edge of the Portkey they were gone.  
  
Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel. Images of the graveyard that haunted his dreams (when he was allowed his own dreams) flashed before his eyes. In reality the journey took mere seconds, but in that time Harry was trapped inside of his worst memories, and they seemed as though they would never end. Harry fell to his knees in the grass, and then his strength gave out and he fell face-down on his stomach. He could smell the earth beneath him. He could feel the cool handle of the tri-wizard cup in his hand, the heavy weight of Cedric's limp body in the other. He lay completely still, unwilling to move, as though afraid that he would once again trigger a sudden magical change of location, until he heard voices. Dumbledore? Harry wondered. He rolled over, and looked up into the very concerned eyes of one Remus Lupin, closely flanked by their fellow travelers. I'm not in the maze. It's been well over a year since I was. I am safe. Relatively speaking. Harry told himself.  
  
Harry sat up and attempted to understand what exactly Remus was asking him. "Are you okay, Harry? Can you tell me what happened?" The werewolf who nearly always kept his cool had a slight edge of panic to his voice.  
  
"Fine," Harry mumbled. "Just don't like Portkeys."  
  
Black Manor was slowly making itself visible behind the wizard helping him to his feet. Harry walked toward the front door, following three rather concerned wizards. He was completely oblivious to the world around him, until the young witch next to him poked him in the ribs. He looked up at the sudden distraction, and gave her a small smile.  
  
"Aww." she said, running her forefinger under his chin, "You've got peach fuzz. Somebody needs to teach you how to shave." He looked at her, a bit taken aback, opened his mouth and then decided against replying. Instead, he turned a bit red, and looked over at a bush in a neighboring yard.  
  
They all entered the house, to find the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry kneeling down on the hearthrug, with his head in the fire.  
  
"Yes I understand that completely, but that doesn't change the fact that." The person on the other end of the fire must have cut him off, because he did not continue. They decided to give the man some privacy, and made their way into the kitchen.  
  
"Would you like some tea, Harry?" Mr. Weasley offered.  
  
"Sure. Thank you, sir," Harry answered.  
  
"Your very welcome Harry. I think we could probably all use a cup," he replied to the younger wizard.  
  
Albus Dumbledore entered the kitchen, and sat across from Harry at the table. "It is very good to see you again Harry," he smiled warmly.  
  
"Thank you, Professor. It's nice to see you, too." Harry greeted the ancient wizard.  
  
"Tea?" Mr. Weasley asked the new arrival, as he rummaged through a cabinet for cups.  
  
"That would be lovely, Arthur," the older man smiled. "Everything went well I assume?"  
  
"As well as could be expected," Remus replied vaguely. Harry and Tonks both thought that now would be the best time to blush and duck their heads, but the headmaster was kind enough to pretend as though he hadn't noticed.  
  
The six of them fell into friendly conversation. Harry asked about what had become of Kreacher, and was told that the elf had been taken in by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and they had seen him as a danger, and seen to it that he was executed. Mr. Weasley brought up the subject of O.W.L.s, at which point Dumbledore became quite interested in his tea, and chose to remain quiet, which Harry found rather unnerving. Tonks got bored, and decided to start experimenting with various eyebrows, which caused Harry to jump, and accidentally spill his tea when he spotted his friend sporting a single bright green brow above her violet colored eyes. He and Remus began to mope up his mess, when Tonks announced that she needed to check in at work, and Mr. Weasley agreed that he had better do the same. Bill decided that he should go and inform his mother that Harry was safe, so that she could stop pacing in front of the clock. They all said their good-byes, and were off. Professor Dumbledore stuck around long enough to tell Harry that he was happy that he was home once again, and then left also.  
  
Harry look over at Remus after they had all gone. "You all keep saying that I'm home," Harry started.  
  
"You are. We told you. Never mind, we forgot to tell you," he corrected. "This is yours." He half smiled.  
  
"What?" Harry was trying desperately follow, but only ended up more lost.  
  
"Well not really. It's the ministry's right now. They took possession of Sirius' estate when he was arrested, but he named you his sole heir. So when his name is cleared, this is yours," Remus explained. A loud shriek issued from the painting of Sirius' mother hanging out in the hall. "If you want it that is," he smiled.  
  
Harry and Remus talked a bit longer, before Remus had to go, and Harry decided to try a nap. He walked slowly up the stairs, taking in his surroundings once again. The memories didn't overpower him here like he thought they would have. They were just there, waiting for him if he wanted them. He made his way to the room that he had shared with Ron last summer, and laid down on the bed. "Night, Phineas," Harry mumbled to the empty portrait frame. He then closed his eyes and fell into a rather restful doze.  
  
A/N Two chapters. posted in two days. Go me! I'm so happy! Thanks again to Erfa. Thanks to all who reviewed. Do it again! Please? 


	4. Results

I do not own Harry Potter.  
  
Chapter 4 Results  
  
Harry awoke nearly an hour later from a surprisingly dreamless sleep. He got up, stretched, and put on his glasses. As he headed for the door he noticed that the normally empty frame hanging on the wall was in fact not empty. He stopped and looked at the ex-headmaster standing in the frame.  
  
"Finally," Phineas growled. "I thought you'd sleep all day."  
  
"Sorry," Harry replied. "I had no idea anyone was waiting on me. Is everything alright?"  
  
"Oh everything is fine," the man in the painting said, rolling his eyes. "Albus Dumbledore just has me baby sitting apparently, as you are all by yourself for the day. Nobody has time to take care of you so I'm stuck here."  
  
Harry was slowly becoming quite irritated. Do they really think that I can't take care of myself? Harry was insulted that they didn't think that he could stay out of trouble for one day.  
  
"Well are you just going to stand there and stare at me child? Don't you have something better to do?"  
  
Harry left the room, shutting the door rather harder than was necessary. Why does no one trust me? Harry was past angry now and just wanted to mope. He decided that he would just wonder around the place. It was quite beautiful now that the cleaning was done.  
  
He opened a nearby door, and met the gaze of a large regal looking animal. Harry bowed to the hippogriff, and it returned the gesture. He began stroking the head of the magnificent beast, which closed its eyes in approval.  
  
"How's it going, Buckbeak?" Harry asked softly. The hippogriff did not respond but leaned its head in to encourage Harry to keep petting.  
  
Harry decided to stay in there for a while and keep Buckbeak company. He had just settled down on the floor with the huge beast curled up beside him and his battered old book that he had yet to finish when a tapping at the window distracted him. As they were on the second floor, he knew it had to either be an owl, or some Weasleys, but was betting on the prior.  
  
He opened the window, and a small tawny owl hopped through. Harry took the letter off of its leg and stared at the Hogwarts crest against the heavy yellow parchment envelope. My O.W.L results, Harry thought. A slight panic was building up inside him. What if I failed everything? I won't be accepted into any of the N.E.W.T classes, and I'll be kicked out of Hogwarts. Harry was hyperventilating. Buckbeak sensed his distress, and trotted over to his side. He nudged the boys arm and brought him back to reality. Harry smiled his thanks and broke the seal on the envelope.  
  
Mr. H. Potter, The following are the results of the Ordinary Wizarding Level tests which you participated in last term. As you know a grade of A, E, and O are passing grades, while anything lower is failing. Each individual test counts as 1 level. The overall score is there only for your convenience. Congratulations on receiving 13 O.W.L.s.  
  
Charms: Written: Outstanding Practical: Acceptable Overall: Exceeds Expectations  
  
Transfiguration: Written: Exceeds Expectations Practical: Outstanding Overall: Exceeds Expectations  
  
Herbology: Written: Acceptable Practical: Acceptable Overall: Acceptable  
  
Defense against the Dark Arts Written: Outstanding Practical: Outstanding Overall: Outstanding  
  
Potions: Written: Exceeds Expectations Practical: Outstanding Overall: Outstanding  
  
Care of Magical Creatures: Written: Exceeds Expectations Practical: Outstanding Overall: Outstanding  
  
Astronomy: Written: Acceptable Practical: Poor Overall: Poor  
  
Divination: Written: Poor Practical: Dreadful Overall: Dreadful  
  
History of Magic: Written: Dreadful Overall: Dreadful  
  
Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress  
  
Harry stood stalk still. He had gotten 13 O.W.L.s. Thirteen! That was more than he had expected. Wait a minute! He had passed potions! How on earth had he done that, and an outstanding no less!  
  
Harry sat heavily on the floor, never taking his eyes off of the parchment he held out in front of him. How long he sat like that, dazed and sure that this had to be a dream, he didn't know. Sometime later his attention was called elsewhere by a shout from down stairs, followed by the wails of Sirius's mother in her frame.  
  
"Harry!" some male voice from the floor below bellowed up the stairs. Harry got to his feet, and trudged down the stairs. "Harry!" Ron screamed again, not noticing that his friend was standing right in front of him.  
  
"Ow," Harry replied conversationally, rubbing his ringing ears.  
  
"Oh, sorry," Ron grinned.  
  
"Not a problem. Just help me shut her up," Harry said, heading toward the screaming portrait. They shut the curtain on the painting with more than a little difficulty, and Harry beckoned Ron into the room beyond. "Why don't we get out of her earshot," Harry suggested. "Sorry about that," Ron said. "I completely forgot about her. So, how are you doing?"  
  
"I'm alright," Harry replied.  
  
Ron gave him a rather incredulous look. "Okay. now tell me the truth."  
  
"I'm fine," Harry said adamantly, then sighed. "I miss him. He died. Of course I miss him, but I actually think I'm okay." Harry had yet to tell Ron and Hermione the other half of what was weighing on his mind. They didn't know that Dumbledore had told him about the prophecy, and for the time being Harry thought that it would be better that way.  
  
"You know that if this place is too. if you want to. you know you can stay with us," Ron never was a very eloquent speaker, but Harry was able to pick the meaning out of the words that fell from his mouth.  
  
"Dumbledore figures I'm safer here, and besides. it's not that bad here. I'm starting to like it, but thanks for the offer, and I wouldn't mind visiting. there isn't a whole lot of outdoors around here," Harry replied.  
  
"Anytime," Ron said enthusiastically. "We can get some quidditch practice in, since you'll be back on the team this year."  
  
I had nearly forgotten about that, Harry thought. I had nearly forgotten about quidditch? When did that happen? Harry asked himself in amazement. Well, I was a bit busy last year; Sarcasm dripped from his inner voice.  
  
"Harry!" Ron shouted. Harry looked up into his friends concerned face. "Are you okay?" Harry had been quiet for quite some time. He smiled at Ron and apologized, claiming that he was simply tired. "Dreams still as bad as they were?" Ron asked quietly, as though a lower volume would make the question hurt less.  
  
"They haven't changed," was all that Harry could make himself say.  
  
"Oh!" Ron exclaimed. "I almost forgot why I came!" He pulled parchment envelope from his pocket. "Did your O.W.L. results come yet?" Harry nodded pulling an identical envelope from his own pocket. They exchanged, and congratulated each other on passing 5th year. Ron had received ten passing grades, and two outstandings. He and Harry had passed all of the same classes, with the exception of Ron's poor in potions. "Mom says I could have done better, but I think she's okay with it, seeing as I got more than Fred or George. She's still furious at them and proud of them for leaving school, which leads to some interesting lectures." Ron smiled wide, and the conversation continued until they heard someone in the living room.  
  
Harry and Ron made their way over to the door, and peered out. Severus Snape was standing in front of the fireplace, staring blankly into the flames. Harry was going to leave the man alone, but Ron had other ideas. Harry hurried to keep up with Ron as they made their way across the room.  
  
"Professor?" Ron sneered, as though this was not the proper place for their teacher to be. Snape turned to look at them. Harry caught a glimpse of the bruise under his right eye, a gift given to him by Voldemort at last night's meeting, and unless Harry was very mistaken he had the gifts of all of the Death Eaters hidden beneath his robes.  
  
"Sir," Harry interrupted his friend, "did you need something?" He was careful to make sure that his knowledge of last night was not noticed by the professor.  
  
"Not from you, Potter, that's for sure," Snape sneered at them. "I am waiting on the headmaster. Leave."  
  
Harry pushed Ron back toward the kitchen, and then turned and supplied helpfully, "He hasn't been by here since quite early this morning," and continued on with his friend.  
  
"Stupid." Ron said continuing with a string of words that would cause his mother to use a scouring charm on his mouth.  
  
Harry grinned, "You kiss your mother with that tongue?"  
  
Ron paused for a moment, "NO!" Ron shouted, looking wide eyed at Harry.  
  
"MOUTH! I said mouth! I swear I did!" Harry flushed red at his mistake.  
  
"No you didn't," Ron said, though it took him a while through the never- ending laughter.  
  
"What's so funny?" Hermione asked from the doorway.  
  
"Nothing," Harry said a bit too quickly, while Ron told her everything. It was quite difficult to understand Ron through the gasping and giggling, so she only caught the word tongue, and decided that she really didn't want to know.  
  
"I showed up at your house, and your mother told me that you were here visiting Harry," Hermione said to the still laughing boy in front of her. "How are you Harry?" she added to the other boy.  
  
Harry didn't get a chance to answer though, as the towering figure of an angry potion's master appeared in the doorway. "Would you stop that infernal racket immediately," he asked, though it wasn't a question.  
  
"Sure," he replied, and then looked to his friends, "Why don't we go up stairs?"  
  
"Potter!" Snape shouted, when the three of them were nearly halfway up the stairs. "Get down here!" Harry motioned for his friends to stay where they were, and descended the stairs. When he stood directly in front of Snape, the man spoke. "I hear you passed your potions O.W.L."  
  
"Yes, sir," was Harry's even toned response. "Do you honestly expect me to take you as one of my N.E.W.T. students?" Snape was getting angrier by the minute, and Harry wasn't sure why, but he was not going to rise to the bait.  
  
"Yes, sir. You said you only take student's with top grade O.W.L.s and I made an Outstanding in potions, so that would make me one of them."  
  
"Well, you are wrong, I only accept students with talent, and that does not include you," Snape sneered at the boy.  
  
"Go up stairs with your friends please, Harry," came a voice from the fireplace. The two looked over to see the headmaster step from the flames. Harry nodded and complied, meeting Ron and Hermione where he had left them on the steps.  
  
When they entered the room, they found Phineas dozing, and Hermione asked, "Is that true Harry, did you really get an O in potions?" Harry nodded and Ron grinned. They all traded result papers. The owl had met Hermione at the car when she and her parents pulled up at the Burrow. They spent the rest of the day talking about the classes they were going to take, and wondering who was the last person to truly achieve nineteen outstanding O.W.L.s before Hermione, who blushed a deep crimson when the boys went on about it.  
  
Harry's friends only left Grimwald Place when Mrs. Weasley came and drug them off to bed, after fawning over Harry for a good ten minutes, of course.  
  
Harry went to bed early that night, and quite content. He actually got some rest, as his nightmares left him alone for nearly five hours, but that was all the relief he got, because they did come. Violent and bloody as ever, they came.  
  
A/N I don't like this chapter. I don't know what it is, I'm just not happy with it. I understand completely if you guys don't like it either. If they don't start getting better, I'm going to scrap this story all together. Everybody say thanks to Erfa, and to Luci who helped me figure out how to grade the O.W.L.s and put up with the nervous breakdown that writing this gave me.  
  
Re-posted due to author's stupidity. Thanks to Mella deRanged for pointing it out. I hadn't been able to find where it mentioned Percy's O.W.L. scores, and just completely forgot about Hermione's extra class.  
  
Read and review! 


	5. True Dreams, Playing, and Anger

I don't own Harry Potter.  
  
A/N I know I haven't updated in a very long time, but I have an excuse. I have the attention span of a goldfish with ADD. I started a new fic and it became my main focus. I'll try to update more regularly, but I can't make any promises.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 5 True Dreams, Playing, and Anger  
  
The world was thick with fog, and off in the distance a battle raged. Bright lights in every color imaginable shot around at random. The war seemed to be coming closer and not moving at all. At the center of the mayhem stood a boy. His black hair whipped about his face. His resolute visage never wavered as he stood face to face with two identical snakes. The tails of the giant serpents were intertwined, and both beasts were poised for attack. A phoenix dove from the fog above, its talons ripping through the skin and muscle of both of the mammoth snakes. The beautiful bird came to rest next to the boy who had not moved at all during the exchange. He and the bird watched as one of the injured snakes unwound his tail from that of the other, and retreated into fog. They watched as its twin fell to the ground motionless, and as the fog began to recede. The flashing lights were no more, and the silhouette of a towering castle came into view, the early morning sunlight peeking around its edges.  
  
Harry was startled awake by the sudden appearance of a heavy weight across his torso and the sharp pain of something hard pressing relentlessly into his ribs. His mind began to speed up and could soon process sound. There was the sound of laughter, deep laughter. There were indignant words, and then the weight upon his chest was removed. Harry intended to ask what was going on, but his dry throat only succeeded in producing a small grunt. He opened his eyes, and was met with a churning sea of fire, which could mean only one thing, Weasleys.  
  
"Sorry, Harry," Harry finally managed to comprehend exactly what the chattering noise coming out of his best friend was supposed to mean.  
  
"S'alright," Harry slurred as he put on his glasses and the forms of Ron, Fred, and George Weasley became separated from the blur of color that had filled his vision. "What's going on?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well, we were getting on Mom's nerves, and she didn't want you here all by your lonesome..." George started.  
  
"We got kicked out of the house," Fred continued. "We thought that you would take us in."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes at his brothers, and then turned to Harry. "When we found you asleep, we decided not to wake you, then one of these idiots, I'm not sure which, thought that it would be funny to trip me and... Well... sorry." Ron finished lamely.  
  
Harry smiled, "It's okay Ron." He stood and stretched, stopping with his arms held high above his head, a look of complete shock plastered across his face.  
  
"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron asked worriedly. Harry slowly lowered his arms, barely hearing his friend's voice. My dream. Harry found himself lost in thought. It had been a dream. It hadn't been a vision. Voldemort hadn't influenced it. I would have been able to tell, but Voldemort hadn't been in it? He was getting confused.  
  
"Huh?" Harry said turning his wide eyes toward the youngest of the Weasley brothers. "Oh. Um. I'm fine. Just. you know. thinking. and stuff." The other three looked at each other, and one of the twins twirled his finger around his ear. Ron elbowed him in the stomach, and followed Harry out of the room.  
  
"I'm starved," Ron announced. Harry shook his head and mumbled something about his friend always being starved, but lead them down to the kitchen anyway.  
  
"Hermione's not with you?" Harry asked.  
  
"She, Mom, and Gin went shopping for clothes." Ron answered quietly as they passed the curtain covering the sleeping painting.  
  
That sat eating what little they found in the pantry. Someone really needed to go to the market if people were going to be visiting all the time. Harry had been there less than a week, and the cupboards were nearly bare already.  
  
They talked over topics such as quidditch, Fred and George's budding business, and Mrs. Weasley's reaction to just exactly who had helped fund their little endeavor.  
  
"Yeah," George started. "Mom's not really all that happy with you right now. She rants about how it was a waste of money, and of course about how terribly evil we were for taking it, but I think she's happy we're not criminals at least."  
  
"For a while there I think she was considering the idea that we had knock up a liquor store to get it," Fred continued.  
  
"Over," Harry said. At the queer looks he got he continued, " Knocked over a liquor store. Not up. That means something else."  
  
"Who cares," George replied. "You knew what I meant." He mumbled under his breath about stupid muggle sayings.  
  
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, and wondered whether or not it had been George who actually said it. He decided it didn't matter, and gave up. They fell back into the conversation, until they were interrupted by the sound of someone stumbling out of the fireplace.  
  
"Hello, Remus," Harry said, as they entered the living room. The man looked up from his robes, which he was trying to rid of soot, and smiled.  
  
"Hello, Harry, my good Weasleys."  
  
"Why I never!" Gred huffed.  
  
"Of all the nerve!" Forge continued. Remus quirked an eyebrow.  
  
"What are you two going on about this time?" Ron asked.  
  
"We have never been accused of anything so horrible in our lives," Gred said.  
  
"And we've been accused of a lot," Forge stated.  
  
"And did most of it," Gred continued.  
  
Ron and Remus looked around wide-eyed, before Harry explained. "You called them good."  
  
Fred and George ginned, and Remus shook his head. "My apologies, my mischievous Weasleys."  
  
"Now that's more like it."  
  
"Has Dumbledore been by today Harry?" Remus asked.  
  
"Not that I know of, but I've only been up an hour or so," Harry replied.  
  
"He asked to see me, and now I can't find him. Let him know I stopped by if you do see him. I'll bring by dinner tonight if you want." The members of the order had each taken turns eating dinner at Grimauld Place, and Harry was fairly sure it was at the suggestion, if not order, of Dumbledore.  
  
"Oh!" Ron said, startling Harry. "We were supposed to invite you over for dinner tonight."  
  
"That's fine," Remus said. "Some other time then, Harry"  
  
"Sure," Harry said. "Anytime."  
  
Remus grabbed a hand full of Floo Powder, and disappeared in a roar of flames.  
  
"You guys want to get in a game of quidditch before dinner?" Ron asked.  
  
They had been flying around catching apples for hours now. They weren't playing an actual game. There were no rules. They didn't really need them. They were just enjoying the feeling of flying.  
  
Harry hadn't been in the air since he had been kicked off of the team, but he still didn't miss a single apple. He did on occasion scare his friends out their wits by diving at such angles that they swore he would crash into the ground beneath him.  
  
The sun was slowing sinking toward the horizon when two young girls walked up to their makeshift pitch. Harry turned his broom to face them. Hermione was standing against a tree, but Ginny was standing out in the center of the clearing, making herself the perfect target. He darted off at amazing speeds, charging straight at the youngest Weasley. By the time she noticed, all she had time to do was shriek before she was in the air. Harry shot straight up. The girl in his arms was kicking and screaming and holding on for dear life. She finally quieted down as Harry circled the paddock.  
  
"You through?" he smirked down at her. She rolled her eyes and gave another, shorter, scream. He laughed and drifted toward the ground.  
  
His feet hit solid earth, and he held his captive steady until she found her feet. She smiled at him before she was drug backwards and held behind twin bodyguards as Ron strode angrily toward his friend. Hermione ran as fast as she could to where they had landed but didn't make it in time. Ron drew back his fist and hit Harry square in the jaw.  
  
Harry sat in the kitchen of The Burrow. The smell of Mrs. Weasley's amazing cooking wafting toward him as he listened to the woman lecture her three youngest sons. Harry had tried to explain, as had the accused, but Mrs. Weasley wouldn't hear any of it. She had threatened to put a silencing spell on Harry if he continued to talk before the potion had a chance to heal his jaw. So he sat holding an ice pack against his face as Ginny shot him sympathetic looks.  
  
Dinner was a strained and quiet affair, and ended much quicker than any meal at the Weasley house ever had.  
  
Harry fell out of the fireplace, and was about to hit the hearthstones when a pair of strong arms lifted him to his feet. He looked up to find Remus Lupin grinning down at him.  
  
"Thanks," he said, brushing pointlessly at his robes. He looked around the room and caught sight of his headmaster sitting in one of the armchairs near the fire. "Hello, sir."  
  
"Harry," he nodded his hello.  
  
"How was dinner with the Weasleys?" Remus asked.  
  
"Fine," he lied. "Goodnight, Remus, Professor."  
  
He climbed the stairs and entered his room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the blank canvas, when a knock at his door startled him back to reality.  
  
"You okay, Harry?" Remus asked, seating himself on the spare bed.  
  
"Fine," Harry said tonelessly.  
  
"Right," Remus replied. "So then what exactly is it about the floor that is so fascinating?"  
  
Harry looked up into the lycanthrope's kind eyes, and replied. "Ron hit me."  
  
To Harry's surprise, Remus laughed. A true deep gravelly laugh, that Harry hadn't heard since the summer before when he and Sirius would tell tales of their past. "Did you deserve it?" he smirked.  
  
"I don't think so," Harry's voice bordered on indignant.  
  
Remus held his hands up in surrender. "Just curious," he soothed. "What happened?"  
  
Harry explained his attack on Ginny, and by the end of the tale Remus' grin had return in full force.  
  
"You were flirting with his baby sister. Has Ron ever reacted well to anyone flirting with her?" Remus said.  
  
Harry thought back to Ron's reaction to Michael Corner last year. "Neville Longbottom?" Harry tried, but knew that it didn't warrant a response. "But I wasn't flirting."  
  
Remus' grin grew bigger, and then faltered slightly.  
  
"What?" Harry asked, afraid he had said something to upset his friend.  
  
"Nothing," Remus replied, but at the look of concern on the young man's face he answered. "Just thinking of all of the people who should be up here talking to you instead of me." Remus shook his head and continued. "Don't worry about Ron. It happens. He'll get over it. They always do, and you'll forgive him, and all will be right with our screwed up world once again."  
  
"How are you so sure? We have had fights before, but nothing violent."  
  
"Because I too was once a teenager. Let's see. I hit Sirius once. I seem to remember Sirius and your dad having it out real good one time, and Peter took a swing at me once, but Sirius had him flat on his back before he connected. Boys fight. That's what they do. You two will survive it. I promise." He rose from his seat on the bed and headed to the door. "Rest well, Harry."  
  
A/N I love reviews. 


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